


Trials of a Manic Pixie Dream Boy

by Shelligator



Category: Green Eggs and Ham (Cartoon)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Dancing, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shelligator/pseuds/Shelligator
Summary: They were just two dudes. A Guy and a Sam. Bonded by friendship, a relationship forged by love, matching attachés, shared trauma, and green eggs and ham. There's little Briefcase Buddies wouldn't do for one another, and even less they wouldn't do together.  So when Sam begs Guy to go undercover with him, who is he to refuse?And as a disembodied voice once said, this is a story about giving new things a try.- A Guy x Sam fanfic, rated Mature for swearing and just in case. Down with the garbage fruit! Warning: Contains reference to 80's music.
Relationships: Guy Am I/Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 143





	Trials of a Manic Pixie Dream Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my gay fanfic <3
> 
> Here's the reference for Sam's beautiful dress, and the art that inspired this fanfic. She's an amazing artist, she deserves much love! - https://cloverenia.tumblr.com/post/189049291504/so-i-had-an-idea
> 
> The song is Spin Me Right Round (Like a Record) by Dead or Alive, or by Ninja Sex Party, whoever you think did it better.
> 
> Guy is definitely a Knox, but a Who is the closest-ish sort of thing I could think of for Sam.
> 
> This fic will probably end up having some suggestive stuff/smut in it, maybe. If there is I'll provide ample warning/separation/indication. Otherwise for now it's just for colourful language and some suggestive dancing. ;)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading in advance, and hopefully chapter 2 will but up soon.

For what felt like the 100th time that evening, Guy Am I adjusted his bow tie, a rumbling growl escaping through clenched teeth as he tugged at the offending clothing article. The _yipping_ thing was too tight, and he was a hair’s breadth from tearing it from his throat and hurling it at the nearest unsuspecting party goer.

Stupid bow. Stupid neck. Stupid yipping party. Stupid Sam!

Of course it was Sam’s fault he was in this mess in the first place. And the little bastard was nowhere to be seen; his friend had insisted he’d meet him there, and that was _hours_ ago. The poor Knox had been waiting thirty minutes for that bumbling fool, leaving him to aimlessly wander the outskirts of the dance floor and loiter around the snack table, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone and everyone.

And all this was for a job. Of course, what a hoot. He should have known Sam was going to drag him into another of his seemingly innocuous ventures. At least now he was warned beforehand about what it really was.

Guy shifted nervously at the thought, scratching absently at his fluffy ruff as his dark eyes scanned the dance floor for his friend. Why had he agreed to this? He didn’t “ _do crimes_ ”, as the silly dope said it. The lower the profile Guy could keep, the happier he was.

And yet, here he was, hiding behind the punch bowl, waiting for a criminal.

Once upon a time this would be the last thing he’d do, but his friend had begged and pleaded for days, insisting his ‘target’ was a snotty bureaucrat trying to turn the snuffalope animal rescue center into a cantaloupe factory. It was a simple framing job, to plant something scandalous on his person and ruin the garbage-fruit-lover’s chances of ever being taken seriously. 

It was for a good cause, surely. That’s what it sounded like. He could trust Sam, right?

But what if they got caught? Suddenly, he could almost feel multiple eyes on him, like they could see right through him to the secrets he carried.

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

He was about to make his retreat, growling and grumbling under his breath, when he felt a hand suddenly take a hold of his wrist, yanking him back unceremoniously.

“And where do you think _you’re_ going, my bestest, most favorite person in the whole world?!”

Guy would adamantly deny to anyone the quiet sigh of relief that escaped him then. A sigh that quickly turned into a snarl, the taller man turning to confront his best friend and briefcase buddy, ready to land some snarky remark.

But whatever he was going to say was suddenly strangled in his throat, his eyes going comically wide as he finally laid eyes on Sam.

_What is happening right now?_

“Sam... what are you wearing?”

The fluffy Who-like man arched a brow at him skeptically for a moment, before flashing him one of his trademark smiles, releasing his wrist to strike a decidedly dainty pose, “What, haven’t seen a dress before, DB? Dance Buddy! What do you think, do you like it?”

Guy watched slack jawed as Sam I Am wagged his eyebrows at him, turning on the spot to look over his shoulder at him through coyly lidded eyes, ruffling the peachy orange dress he wore. The frilled hem swished freely around his legs, flaring out from the waist in what Guy couldn’t deny was a very flattering manner. And in place of his hat was a crown of large, blooming red roses, contrasting starkly against his snowy fur. The same shade of red as Guy’s bow tie.

Guy swallowed audibly, and his eyes traced up his friend’s figure before arcing off towards the ceiling, the inventor huffing dismissively as he zeroed in on a particularly interesting light fixture. But his gaze soon wandered back to Sam almost lazily.

“It’s nice, I guess. Is this your idea of a disguise?” he drawled, and he reached up to adjust his bow with a little more force than necessary.

For a second Sam faltered, his smile falling so subtly, it was almost impossible not to miss. But Guy noticed. He always noticed. As quickly as it had happened though Sam was soon doing a flamboyant twirl, shaking his rump in the adorable garment.

_Adorable..._

“What, a guy can’t wear a dress? I’m disappointed in you, Dance Buddy!” Sam cooed, and Guy was suddenly confronted by the press of the smaller man’s body against his own, Sam’s face upturned to his as he leered at him, “I think you _really_ like it. You have a keen eye for fashion!”

_Sure. Keen eye for fashion._

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he hissed at him through gritted teeth, his neck hot beneath his fur, “A person can wear whatever they like. But… yes, it does look… good. It’s a lovely dress. Happy now?”

He could feel Sam’s entire body tremble against his own, and the flamboyant man squealed in sheer delight, throwing his arms around Guy in a fully body, smothering embrace. He somehow managed to hike his body upwards until Guy’s face was smashed into his bosom, thin yellow arms wrapped around his head, ankles locking around his midriff.

Oh no. That dress hiked up Sam’s petite form in the process, and Guy spluttered and choked indignantly into the soft fur of of Sam’s chest, eyes wide with panic before they narrowed with smouldering rage. The growl that escaped him was loud enough for the punch drinkers to turn and gawk at them, a few of them sheepishly retreating into the growing throng of dancers.

So much for framing, Guy was seconds away from murder.

“Oh Guy, you always know just what to say! You’re making me blush!”

“Get. Off. _Sam!_ ”

With surprising grace Sam untangled himself from the taller man, and Guy released a shaky sigh of relief, smoothing down his disheveled fur as he turned away grumpily. He cursed himself for the irritation and frustration that blossomed in his chest, setting his teeth on edge and making him feel out of sorts, ill fitting in his own skin. He thought he had gotten used to Sam’s clinginess a long time ago.

_He smelt like flowers…_

“...Here, let me fix that.”

Sam’s voice was suddenly quiet, gentle, and Guy blinked hard as nimble yellow fingers started to undo his bow tie, loosening it with practiced ease. He flashed the inventor a tender, encouraging smile, and inexplicably, Guy felt himself relax, bending over to help him get better access to his neck. At that moment, he didn’t mind how close Sam’s face was to his own, his warm breath tickling the fur on his cheek.

“Thanks. It’s been killing me. And I hate parties.”

“ _No_ , I could have sworn you loved them.” Sam tittered, grinning at him, and Guy couldn’t help but smile back, “You know, since you’re _so_ good with people in general. Not socially inept at all!”

“Hilarious. Cut that out, before I walk out on you.” Was the grumbly retort he got for his teasing, but there wasn’t any venom there, “What took you so long anyway, if you knew how much _fun_ I’d be having on my own?”

Sam snorted at that, “What, looking this fabulous takes time you know, not all of us are born with dashing good looks, my Guy.”

That garnered a hard eye roll from Guy. The two fell into momentary silence as Sam fixed his bow, and when he finally finished he patted Guy’s cheek fondly before stepping back to admire his work. A low whistle escaped him, and Guy narrowed his eyes at him in warning, folding his arms.

“Oh wow, would you look at that. Pretty hot stuff if I say so myself, you could get arrested for looking that good.”

“I’m not going back to jail.” Guy waved a hand at him dismissively before leaning back against the wall, his gaze wandered to the dance floor as a popular hit came on. People squealed in excitement, and more than a few of them took to the dimly lit floor to dance amongst the flashing lights and stars. It quickly became a lively affair, with men and women gyrating in time to the song. 

_You spin me right round baby right round, like a record baby right round round round._

They weren’t the only people enthused. Guy heard one of Sam’s long, dramatic gasps burst forth, and he glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye to see him abandon what was likely going to be a glass of punch. Bright eyed, Sam threw his arms up to the few party goers still hanging around him, beaming joyously, “Oh man! This one’s great, right?! Dance with me!”

The Who launched into some comically exaggerated dance moves, and his enthusiasm encouraged a few giggles from amicable onlookers. A quiet chuckle rumbled in Guy’s chest, and soon he found himself turning fully to watch his travel buddy, his eyebrows rising. 

Sam was getting lost to the rhythm, forgetting his audience as he sashayed his hips to and fro, eyes closed, clearly in his own world. His dress twirled and fluttered around him like a flower as he swayed on the spot, and one of his hands snaked into the dense white fur of his cheek, lips silently mouthing the words to the song.

And then Sam’s eyes were open, and he fixed his gaze on Guy with purpose as he raised a hand, pointing directly at him as he mouthed the words with vigor.

_All I know is that to me, you look like you’re lots of fun._

Guy felt his cheeks go hot, not only because he was caught staring, but he was being coerced. He shook his head firmly, glowering at Sam despite the red flush to his cheeks. But the Animal Rescuer was relentless, and Sam smirked at him as he started to beckon him with both hands, hips swirling as he made a vigorous ‘come hither’ motion.

_Open up your loving arms, **watch out here I come.**_

The inventor was mortified, and he shied away from Sam’s gesturing like they were physical blows, cursing the red hot glow that seeped through his rustic orange fur. But the wild beckoning continued, and Sam kept flashing an encouraging, if somewhat pleading grin at him. The Knox swallowed, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest.

This was stupid, he didn’t know a thing about dancing. But Sam looked so hopeful, so clearly enjoying himself. 

_How do you know you won’t like it, if you’ve never even tried it?_

A quiet whimper of defeat shook his shoulders, and reluctantly Guy pushed away from the wall to approach the still gyrating Sam, internally cursing himself and his weak will with every step.

The Who in question sucked in another long, dramatic gasp, eyes wide as he clapped both hands to his cheeks. His dancing finally ceased. Guy gave him another petulant eye roll in response, even as Sam piped up in an awed stage whisper, “My Guy, _you_ want to dance with _me_?!”

“No, I don’t. I don’t dance, period. But clearly you insist, and somehow, I’m here in spite of my better judgement.”

Sam let out a giddy chortle, hopping from one foot to another, and Guy quickly grew impatient, his fists clenched at his sides as he snarled down at him. He never should have asked. “Well, do you want to or not? I will _gladly_ go back to-”

But before he could finish, Sam’s hand clamped down on his wrist in an iron grip. “ _Do I?!_ Heck yeah I do, Dance Buddy! Come on, come on, let’s go! I love this song!”

“You don’t say.” Guy tried to retort, but his voice sounded high-pitched even to him, and he was suddenly led onto the dance floor with such force he was practically dragged. Sam was stronger than he looked. 

_This was a mistake._

Before he knew it, poor Guy was the unwilling victim of Sam’s manic and suggestive dancing. The surrounding dancers were given little choice but to quickly move out of the way of Sam’s erratic movements, forming a growing space around the pair. 

Sam beamed giddily up at the other man as he enthusiastically swayed his hips and twirled around his Dance Buddy like he was a dancer’s pole, even going so far as to swish his rear up against his. Guy was too terrified and clumsy to do much more than stand there, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. This was the Good Luck incident all over again.

Looking back on it, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting.

“Come on, boo! Loosen up! Shake it out! Like this~ _You spin me right round, baby right round, like a record baby right round!_ ”

Sam bounced back a pace to graciously give Guy some much-needed space, only to shake his rear at him through his dress. Guy groaned, arms folded stubbornly as he awkwardly, halfheartedly moved his hips from side to side. His lip curled upward, and Sam laughed in the face of his efforts, sidling back up to him as he mimed reeling him in like the big, miserable catch he was. Guy didn’t move an inch closer to him.

“Goodness, you are too precious, Guy! Look at those moves!”

“You’re a dope.” Guy hissed back, but quickly regretted it, waving his hands before Sam could even take a moment to flinch “Sorry, I didn’t mean that… I’m just… I’m not a good dancer.”

“ _Who is_?” Sam chortled, his gaze softened, and he threw his arms up as he made a show of joyously twerking and sashaying this way and that. He threw some playful hand motions before rolling his shoulders, bringing his arms down tight to his sides as he grinned up at Guy with a smile so bright it hurt to look at.

Guy gave a nervous chuckle, returning a somewhat shaky smile as he slowly relaxed, his movements becoming a little more fluid. He was rewarded with a cheer for his efforts, and Guy’s smile turned into a lopsided grin.

_Maybe this wasn’t so bad. It could be worse, at least._

“So, where’s this ‘target’ of yours anyway, have you seen him yet?”

“What?”

But just then, the song came to its abrupt end, quickly transitioning into another popular hit. A love song. Both men went still, and as they watched the throng around them shifted, seamlessly separating and rejoining to form pairs for a slow dance.

_Shit._

Guy’s gaze flicked back to Sam, just in time to see the Who’s expression fall, hands balled into fists in the skirt of his dress as he groaned quietly, enough so that Guy almost didn’t catch it.

“Oh… oh no…”


End file.
